


(please don't) say you love me

by fthh



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/F, Fluffy and Silly at the End Don't Worry Lads, Light Angst, Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), mostly - Freeform, nothing much happens it's just a feelings fest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:21:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27736774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fthh/pseuds/fthh
Summary: five untimely declarations of love.
Relationships: Ingrid Brandl Galatea/Mercedes von Martritz
Comments: 3
Kudos: 30





	(please don't) say you love me

**Author's Note:**

> Rated M for description of what happens after sex... just to be safe but it's nothing graphic
> 
> aaaaaaand for the 69th mercigrid fic i bring you... a feelings fest!!!
> 
> title taken from _please don't say you love me_ by gabrielle aplin :)

It’s been stewing for a while, if Ingrid is being honest. Something’s felt off for some time now, and perhaps it was foolish of her to set it aside, to not care about it, but it’s here. She’s blown back by the sheer force of her feelings.

… and Mercedes using her gauntlets to punch her square in the ribs. That’s going to burn for  _ days. _ She’s seen even Dimitri take perhaps a month to fully heal from one of Mercedes’ gut punches. She isn’t looking forward to  _ this. _

But this, this: this is Mercedes punching her to  _ hurt.  _ Edelgard has declared war on the church. Mercedes has pledged allegiance to the Empire. Ingrid is still the Kingdom’s stalwart knight, still serving her prince, still Dimitri’s childhood friend, still… her.

As she lays on the floor, wheezing, watching Mercedes approach her gingerly, regret lining her face, Ingrid says it in broken breaths: “I’m in love with you.”

And then her lungs threaten to collapse and her vision fades to black and all she hears is Sylvain and Dimitri calling out her name while a soft pair of hands stroke her chest. Ingrid wonders if it’s Mercedes; she feels a sharp prick of pain in the spaces between her bones and then— nothing.

Nothing for five years. Mercedes is gone.

.

There’s rumours of the Professor being back. Ingrid wonders if this will change the tide of war.

… She’s shot down by an arrow while her mind is racing in so many different directions. It’s the Professor. It’s Mercedes. They’re running next to each other on the frontlines while Edelgard stays close behind them.

— and then an arrow comes flying to her and pierces her armour, and now Ingrid’s down on the ground, unable to move. She doesn’t hear much. Perhaps she  _ does, _ but doesn’t have the capacity to register what she’s hearing.

There’s only commotion, cacophony, chaos, when it comes to war. She’s learned that the hard way these past five years.

There’s an exchange of words between…  _ someone. _ Ingrid doesn’t know. All she knows is there’s a soft voice, asking, asking, asking, and then there’s a pair of arms under her, carrying her somewhere safe.

She assumes it’s safe. It smells like balm and oil and… a hint of lavender?

Goddess, she’s missed that scent  _ so so so _ much. What wouldn’t she give to wake up to Mercie’s handkerchief on her night stand again?

_ Ridiculous, don’t be ridiculous,  _ the small voice in her head berates her. They’re in the middle of war. No time for  _ feelings. _

When she opens her eyes, she’s greeted by the distantly familiar scent of lavender. Lavender. Slightly burnt sugar. A faint trace of honey. Everything soft that she can remember.

Mercedes is next to her, looking on gravely. She has eye-bags, much more prominent now than during their school days, cramming for an exam.

Funny, Ingrid thinks. It’s been so long since Mercedes has looked this way… and yet the gravity of the situation doesn’t hit her. She only feels  _ funny. Silly. _

She thinks about her school days, when she’d fantasise about holding Mercedes’ hand, when she’d think about Mercedes’ soft hair, when she’d dream about having Mercedes bake sweets, special for her.

Ingrid honest-to-goodness laughs at the thought: once upon a time she came to the conclusion that it was  _ normal _ for friends to think about these things. How stupid was she? Honestly, if she and Dorothea weren’t on opposing sides of the war she’d be long dead from Dorothea smacking her for how stupid she is.

As it is, Dorothea is at the doorway, leaning on one side, watching her with the same expression she did all those years ago.  _ Stupid, stupid Ingrid. _ This time Dorothea keeps her fists to herself.

Enemy combatant, and all that.

So she wonders: why isn’t she dead yet? Why is she surrounded by her enemies in their medic tent? Why is Mercedes the only one within reaching distance? Why are Edelgard and Hubert and Ferdinand speaking to each other in hurried, hushed voices?

All of these thoughts fade away as soon as Mercedes’ voice pipes up — a guiding light appears and all the chaos is drowned out into the background. There’s a slight smile to Mercedes’ features, and everything she’s been thinking about races in her mind, and she’s so so so sure now, so she takes a deep, painful breath, and says in a low whisper:

“I’m still in love with you, you know.”

Mercedes’ eyes widen in surprise. She can hear Dorothea gasp in the background. Edelgard’s urgent whispering has come to a sudden halt. Ingrid wonders if she did anything wrong.

“Oh, Ingrid…”

Mercedes still sounds like heaven.

.

Ingrid doesn’t quite know if Mercedes heard her heartfelt confession because she’d said it in a shuddering voice, her thighs clamped tightly around Mercedes’ ears. She shivers as she comes down from her orgasm, Mercedes still licking her folds, guiding her through it with a little  _ good girl, good girl, my good girl,  _ and  _ that’s it, you’re doing so well… _

“Did you say something?” Mercedes when she finally comes up, and Ingrid is mesmerised: her own slick is coating Mercedes’ chin. She’s panting, as if the act of eating out took her breath away. Most importantly, she’s smiling that tired smile of hers, something Ingrid has noticed Mercedes only reserves for when they’re alone together.

… even after all these years.

Even after five years of being on different sides of the war, even after months of distrust from the Black Eagles when Ingrid had first defected to the Empire.

Mercedes’ smile is tired, but Ingrid is dazzled nonetheless. She doesn’t think, she can’t think, she’s too tired, and her elbows give out and she unceremoniously plops back down onto the bed, and wonders how they got here.

Ingrid thinks about the soft touches Mercedes had given her during her last visit to the infirmary, thinks about the gentleness of Mercedes’ fingers as she looks over the bruises on Ingrid’s ribs, thinks about the quiet  _ oh, my poor knight, _ and the subsequent weakening of her knees, and…

— and here they are. Mercedes’ face in between her legs, someone rapping on the wooden door, asking if everything is alright.

Mercedes’ voice comes out a bit weak, but she does manage to say: “Yes, don’t worry, I’m okay, just spooked by a shadow, is all.”

Ingrid’s laughter comes out hoarse. Mercedes laughs at her. They clean up and go about their day, and don’t talk about it.

.

They don’t talk about it for months and months until it all comes to a head, when:

  1. Mercedes says she has extra cookies, _would you like some? They’re not too sweet, I think you’d like them._
  2. Ingrid gingerly accepts them, and when she bites into one she feels like she’s a schoolgirl again, giddy and carefree, and…
  3. The tears start to fall.
  4. Mercedes asks if anything is wrong, and Ingrid says no, no, _no_ , just her feelings finally spilling out after not thinking about them for a long time.
  5. “Good feelings, I hope?”
  6. Ingrid looks at her with longing, wants to kiss her and kiss her and kiss her…
  7. “I love you.”
  8. Mercedes confesses she’d made the cookies specially for Ingrid. Ingrid doesn’t know what to say — all she knows is she wants to _kiss_ this woman in front of her.
  9. But the moment passes.
  10. So many moments pass, and they’ve talked about everything else when they realise the sun has gone down and the moon is greeting them through an open window, and Mercedes says, in a small voice, “I would like to kiss you now.”
  11. So they do.



.

“This is  _ not _ the time,” Dorothea hisses under her breath. “This is  _ so _ not the time, idiot.”

Ingrid is, in full armour, kneeling on the war table.

“I love you, fair maiden,” she declares.

“I love you too, my strong knight,” Mercedes says with a giggle. Then, turning to everyone else, she says: “My apologies, everyone, she took the wrong pill last night, and the effects will wear off at the end of the day.”

“Goddess, I don’t believe in you, but please stop them.”

**Author's Note:**

> this was so much fun to write! in all sincerity i would like to thank my friends for giving me motivation to write after 2 months of a hectic school schedule and also sticking with me in that period :DDD i love you my good lads <3333
> 
> i promised something non-cursed and i hope this wasn't cursed... can't promise anything about the next one though


End file.
